#i wrote it for a school project

[nexus-nebulae]

i find it interesting that most of my most significant writing embodies mostly themes of either pure panic or desperation

[ghosttotheparty]

also on ao3

(cw: tics, bullying)

Eddie started shivering in seventh grade.

Even when it was hot, even when he was sweating and desperately wanted a non-rattly fan or a better air conditioner. They weren't normal shivers. He wasn't cold. But his shoulders would jerk or shake, or he would tremble for a second, and he didn't know what else it could have been. Others didn't question it for a while, because it started in October. Everyone was shivering. But by March, it hadn't stopped, and he had to explain himself when people gave him questioning looks or asked if he was okay. (Back when people cared.)

'S just a shiver, I'm fine.

He wasn't fine. It got worse over time. He got used to it, to the weird feeling that took over his body for a few seconds, got used to telling people he was cold, joking that he must be low on vitamins or iron, joking that in the future, someone is walking over his grave. But other people didn't get used to it. They thought he was weird. That was fine with him. Wayne realised something was wrong before Eddie started the tenth grade, because he wasn't just shivering anymore. His whole body was jerking sharply, suddenly, his shoulders drawing up, fists clenching. Eddie didn't question it. Wayne did.

It wasn't normal. But nothing about Eddie was normal. Wayne took him to see a doctor. The doctor make him do things, walk in a line, hold his arms out and push the doctor's hands away as hard as he could, follow a flashlight with his eyes without moving his head. It was all weird. It kind of scared Eddie. The doctor kept writing things in a notebook, and Eddie couldn't tell if he was doing well or not. But Wayne was there, watching and listening intently.

The doctor said he had tics. It sounded funny to Eddie, but then it wasn't funny, because the doctor didn't give him anything for it. He just said there wasn't anything really wrong with him. His brain just worked a little differently. (Which Eddie was already used to hearing.) That his tics could get better or go away as he got older, or they could get worse.

They got worse.

By the end of that summer, his arms were moving, flying over his head suddenly, randomly, and his head was jerking back so sharply it hurt. Wayne was worried about him getting whiplash. Eddie was worried about going to school.

That year, he became the freak.

At first, he tried to explain it to people. The movements were involuntary, he couldn't control them. Wayne contacted all his teachers, who mostly got it, but still preferred to make him sit in the hallway so he didn't distract the class. But the other students thought he was possessed, faking it for attention, and everything in between. They'd throw things at him, and complain to the teachers that he was distracting even when he wasn't moving, just to get him out of the room. They would mimic him, make fun of him, and by September, he learned that the tics get worse when he's upset. He could hear them all snickering and giggling as he shoved his hands under his legs and tucked his chin to his chest or held his shirt over his face, as he held his limbs tense so they wouldn't move, so tense he was exhausted and sore all the time, and then he'd go home and cry because he couldn't control his own body.

He'd have to sit on the sofa so when his head threw itself back, it would hit the back of the sofa instead of the wall, and Wayne would just wait, watching with that fucking sadness in his eyes that made Eddie ache even more. When it finally stopped, sometimes after a few minutes, sometimes after an hour or two, he was so exhausted he'd fall asleep right there on the sofa. He couldn't do his homework. His grades dropped even more, but he managed to keep himself afloat. He did the best he could, doing his homework early in the morning before school or in detention. (Some of his teachers thought he was faking. Mr Peterson was in charge of detention, and he was nice. Considerate. Eddie counted him as one of his few blessings.)

His tics got worse.

In December of his junior year, he started making noises. Short screams, grunts, quiet vocalizations. It scared him. He didn't want to go back to school, but he did. The laughter around him got louder, and he was sent out to the hallways more. He started skipping classes. He knew he'd be forced to leave anyway. So he'd sit in the boys' room, on top of a lidded toiler, his feet up on the stall door, and he'd leave cigarette burns on the walls.

Not everyone was awful. Some kids were just curious about him, asked why he acted the way he did, and he did his best to calmly explain it all. I can't help it, actually. It's just my brain works different. That turned into Eddie's brain's fucked. It's broken. He's a fucking--

So he used it. Eddie the Freak. Attention-seeking, desperate for people to notice him. So he started making devil horns, yelling from tabletops, making himself The Freak so no one could use it against him.

No one, not even Wayne, saw him cry at night, because the attention he got was never the attention he wanted. Because he was tired. So fucking tired. His limbs were sore and his voice was rough, and his neck hurt, and he was sick of being laughed at. But that was all he got.

He kept counting his blessings. Mr Peterson, who never minded Eddie's noises or the way his fists would bang against the table loudly in the silent room, who scolded the other detention-goers when they tried to tease. The Hellfire guys, who got used to his tics fairly quickly, and knew when to pause whatever they were doing if Eddie couldn't hear them over a scream or was distracted by his own body. That nice girl, Chrissy Cunningham, who would slip notes from the classes he missed or skipped into his locker or backpack with sweet smiles. (If Eddie wasn't gay, he would have fallen in love with her.) The other few students that ignored him when his tics acted up, just glancing and moving on. Wayne, bless his soul, who would come to the school to confront Eddie's teachers and complain to the principal about Eddie being mistreated by the staff.

And, oddly enough, Steve Harrington.

Eddie never saw it coming. It was a particularly bad day. He was at his locker, trying to line his books up, but a tic threw his hands up, and some books fell from his locker to the floor. He watched helplessly as papers scattered across the floor, as most students stepped around them, ignoring them, as some jocks trampled over them, over Chrissy's neat handwriting, his fists clenched at his sides. When they passed, he kneeled, picking up the books, and when he looked up, Steve Harrington was kneeling too, gathering the crumpled papers and carefully straightening them out.

He gave them to Eddie with a smile, and Eddie thought he might be dying, in some weird, upside-down dimension where Steve Harrington smiles at Eddie Munson. Eddie took them hesitantly, said thank you, and then he hit him.

He was mortified, almost dropping the papers again, jumping back as his whole body flushed with heat, staring at Steve's shoulder where his hand had just landed heavily, and he burst with a Fuck, I'm so sorry, oh my god--

But Steve had just laughed. Amazingly, it was a kind laugh, with sparkling eyes, and soft cheeks, and he said It's okay.

And then he was gone. Down the hall, after his friends, and Eddie realised his hands were trembling.

Steve kept smiling at him. Even when his friends were making fun of Eddie's Satanic cult, and of the way he couldn't keep still, and of his sad, broken brain. Even when Eddie's brain made him flip Steve off across the cafeteria, Steve saw how Eddie pulled his hand down sharply, and Steve just... laughed. Eddie fell in love with his laugh. It was kind, and it made Eddie feel better, even when he wanted to cry.

Steve graduated the next year. But he didn't leave Eddie alone. Eddie couldn't stop thinking about him, and his kind laugh, and his pretty eyes, and then the sheep Eddie adopted told him all about how cool and brave Steve was, and Eddie fell harder without even seeing him.

The world went to shit. But Eddie got to see Steve again.

Steve was still kind, even though the world was ending, and even during serious discussions, plan-making, how-to-save-the-world conversations, Eddie's tics kept going. His body jerked and shivered, and his head threw back, and his fists hit his own chest and shoulders, and he had to sit down. And Eddie found out that there are more kind people than he thought. When his tics slowed, Nancy wordlessly got him an ice pack to hold to his chest, and when he flung it across the room, Robin caught it with a casual oops, and brought it back to him. No one questioned him, or stared, or laughed, even though he knew how annoying he was.

When he woke up in the hospital, he hurt so badly he couldn't move. He just cried. Steve sat by his bed and held onto his hand. He was crying too. When Eddie stopped crying, Steve carefully slid his rings, clean of blood, onto his fingers.

This one goes here, right?

Yeah.

On the second day, his brain didn't care that he hurt. As Steve was telling him about what was going on with the others (Max was staying with the Sinclairs, Dustin's leg was almost healed), Eddie's hand smacked him across the face sharply, the sting of his rings bringing tears to his eyes before he even processed what happened. Steve wordlessly crawled onto the bed, carefully pulled Eddie against himself, and set a pillow over Eddie's lap for when his fists started hitting his legs. He'd just murmured those words, the first words he'd said to Eddie years ago.

It's okay. It's okay.

And he waited until Eddie's body fell lax against him before he carefully found Eddie's hand, laced their fingers, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Eddie was released from the hospital a few weeks later. He stayed in the Wheelers' basement for a few days until Steve's parents left town, for good this time, and then he moved into the Harrington house.

He likes it there. Steve is still kind. Always. He lets Eddie lay his head in his lap when his body hurts or won't stop moving, and he drags his fingers through his hair or holds a joint to his lips for him, and he smiles. (Eddie would go through the end of the world all over again for that smile.) When Eddie's head hits the wall while they're in the waiting room of the hospital for a checkup, Steve just shifts to face him and holds a hand up to the back of his head so his hand hits the wall instead, saying quietly that Eddie isn't allowed to beat his record number of concussions. He drives Eddie to Wayne's even though Eddie doesn't tic when he drives except for a few facial or vocal ones.

When Eddie whistles one night, Steve just smiles at him and says Was that a tic or are you hitting on me? and Eddie freezes, his face burning. Which would you prefer, pretty boy?

Steve kisses him.

And then Steve starts holding his hand even when he isn't having tics, even when they're with the Party. Eddie moves into Steve's room. (They always slept better when they accidentally fell asleep on the sofa together anyway.) Steve holds him when his tics are bad, and Eddie holds him during his migraines, pressing kisses as softly as he can to his forehead and his temples. Steve takes his hand when it moves to hit Eddie's face or chest. Eddie stands steady and holds Steve's hand to himself when he gets dizzy. Steve keeps ready-made ice packs in the freezer to hold to Eddie's chest and legs when they bruise from his fists. Eddie keeps his handwriting as neat as possible when he writes notes in case Steve forgets anything. When they wake up at night, breathless and sweaty and crying, the other is there, arms open, lips waiting.

One night Eddie says very softly, You know, they used to say my brain was broken.

Steve just says, Mine too.

[jelly-of-many-ships]

I genuinely hope I never learn about stuff like sherlock holmes & oscar wilde in english class cuz like there’s absolutely no way I would be even somewhat normal about it and I really don’t need an entire class knowing how much of a fucking nerd I am lmao

[greenerteacups]

crying screaming throwing up at the latest Lionheart update – only amplified by my listening to the Tortured Poets Department (anthology) while reading. What are your favourite songs from the album? and what would be Hermione and Draco's faves?

favorites: So Long London, BDILH, Florida, Guilty as Sin, The Bolter

Guilty as Sin? is the one that I'll be using for my imaginary blorbo music videos for a while, personally. BDILH is going to be the new star-crossed-lovers edit audio on TikTok from now til the heat-death of the universe, and I personally am going to enjoy that. The Bolter is the best storytelling, and I think its specificity is its strength.

I think Hermione and Draco are 90's babies, and I have self-indulgently projected my own taste for 80's/90's altrock onto both of them. I think Daphne would go full Swiftie in a hot minute, though. Would go nuts for the Alchemy. (It's me, I'm Daph.)

[rotatedaxis]

such love for "you're begging for tissues, all you get is confetti" like, you're in need of something so simple but you're given this ineffectual thing that can't actually help you at all. it just reads as your needs are forgotten or minimised to their smallest possible point and if that isn't being treated seriously then it's mocked or can be dealt with by something small. in line with the song, your nose is bleeding and the best thing for this is tissues, but all you have is confetti, just this little thing that really isn't going to help whatsoever but it's all the help you're gonna get. And the way this comes just after "but [your friends are] all bloodsucking vampires", just adds bc it's like, well they're getting something out of your struggles but you, it's safe to say, are not having a good time. it gives this impression of people taking joy in your suffering but acting as though they aren't or are doing the absolute barest minimum in giving something that might help but, in reality, doesn't, if anything makes it worse, emotionally-speaking.

and maybe it's just me, but the whole thing feels very defeated. like whoever the character of the song is, has just been putting up with all sorts of crap for however long and is just exhausted by it all, but cover it all up "wave hello 'cause nothing's wrong" and take their "heart off of their sleeve" and just act carefree and like everything's okay when nothing is, just bury it all, they don't "get tragic" anymore (perhaps suggesting that they, along with taking their heart off their sleeve, they don't show any of their emotions anymore)

. again, maybe it's me, but "i'm gonna die before you, it's the first race that i'll win" doesn't inspire a particularly hopeful ending and maybe that ties in with being carefree and "hectic", suddenly - people who know it'll be over soon tend feel okay about it, without getting too deep into it right here right now.

maybe, the whole lot reads as a bullying narrative. talking about giving the kids "something to shout back / as the books fall out of my rucksack" and not being "everything to everyone", by trying to please everyone you please no one, so that type of people-pleasing behaviour never worked out for our character, and just resulted in, at least, teasing. "I don't take my phone off silent anymore" could suggest, if you follow this theme, that they don't want to see what people are sending them or saying to them, so you could call them but they probably won't see it or notice. And then, of course, "while your friends sing happy birthday / but they're all bloodsucking vampires" suggests fake friends and people who turn their backs when you're in need, when you'd give them your time and energy and care - they act like they care, shallow things like singing happy birthday, but won't actually help when it's needed, like our character's nosebleed for which they 'beg' for tissue, but all they get is confetti. (and the word beg suggests that they're really trying to get what they need, but to no avail, so they just have to make do with what they can get their hands on)

anyway. I don't know how much or how little sense any of this makes. all I know is all you get is confetti is an excellent song that has me in a chokehold (despite only being out for not even 5 hours at this point) and it deserves to be heard and read into and loved.

[thischerik]

I'm curious about how Charles Xavier would react to one of his students calling him out for his blatant disrespect of other peoples privacy.

Also if this blog is still active.

Honestly I love Charles’s telepathy almost as much as Erik, and I do think the students that decided to take on the Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngesters are mostly all okay with his telepathy.

We don’t really see a lot of students lashing out or getting surprised when Charles reads their thoughts, and that makes sense to me because I think that’s just something that you would expect, because he doesn’t hide it.

That being said, there could still be students that think he’s more low-key about it, or just didn’t do anything early on to indicate Charles’s blatant use and suddenly saw it and was like “Wait wtf”—so I think Charles would react sort of the same way he did to Raven. Respect the boundaries even if it baffled him at first.

He might even throw in a “Alright, I’ll stay away unless you project, or you’re in danger.” And if it goes further that just that student, I don’t think he’d react negatively or hide it away from everyone, because I think that would be a disclaimer for his students regardless, and he might just explain that.

Again, I love when he doesn’t hide his telepathy because that’s his mutation, his schools for mutants, they all use their mutations openly and are taught to practice it and etc.

ILYSM for reviving me (I think about Cherik daily but I got busy and stopped posting a lot and now I regret it 😔)

[toomanyfandomsorkinafs]

When a flower blooms, you come right through the petals so gracefully like dance. Your thoughts so pure I feel them cleaning mine of my impurities. I wish I knew what made you so beautiful to me. I wish to find out how to make myself beautiful to you. It’s a dumb wish that could never be granted but I hope to bring so light to you. Maybe it would allow me become more like you, such a beautifully coloured flower shining in the sun.

Let me into the petal that shows how your skins glitters and glows in radiant colours so bright. I want to captivate you in the way you have for me. So please, my darling, let me become one with the flowers you so gently take care of. With your hands so soft and so tenderly speaking to them as if they were a child. Oh please my darling, let me be yours.

[skoulsons]

Joel feeling like a failure and feeling the need to apologize to Ellie, even over things he can’t control, is, I think, very much an anxiety thing. And also comes down to who you are at your core. Even him telling Tommy, “I have to leave her,” because he doubts his capabilities in being able to protect her in the long run and believes she’ll be better off without him

Joel loves hard. He loves really hard when he does. He loved Tess, despite his inability to show it to her the extent I think we all believe it was. He loves Tommy, we know that. He was willing to drive cross country just to make sure he was okay after three weeks of radio silence. Maybe not loved, but he sure started to care about Henry and Sam and was willing to let them join he and Ellie on their journey to Jackson. And he loves, loves Ellie. More than he’s even comfortable with. (Un)willing to leave her, shove her away from him, even if it means she’ll be safe, as much as he wants to keep her right next to him, held against his side

But what comes with loving someone, what comes with having a heart like this, and what comes with this fear of the well-being and safety of those around you, is a striking belief in your inability to do for them what you believe you should do. It is blaming yourself for things out of your control when they come up in the others life. It’s believing you’re responsible for…nearly everything about them. It is caring way too much about them that you want to take that pain upon yourself to relieve that person of it. And it, in turn, makes you believe you’re not good enough when you can’t. Incapable. Unworthy. Along with the general mix of…not feeling adequate or good enough in general. You want to help this person in every way, but your belief in your inadequacy creates such a debilitating sense of understanding of what you really want and who you are

But, I say it’s an anxiety thing because of believing that person will blame you for something that’s out of your control. That because you couldn’t stop something that, frankly, is completely out of your control and responsibility and could’ve never stopped in a million years, you find a way to blame yourself and, in turn, think this person will also blame you for not being able to stop it. Because you care too much and are too freaked over protecting them that your understanding of how they feel gets completely warped. That you think they’ll lash out and cut you off. That they’ll be angry with you for what you couldn’t stop. And, out of the fear of believing that could happen, you take it upon yourself to apologize. To try and take it and place the blame upon yourself. To try and keep that person from becoming angry with you

And we know Joel (I think??) took anti anxiety meds even Before. That he was forced to cut it immediately, worsening it tremendously. And with how hard he loves, especially Ellie? That’s a nightmare for mental health. His fear over her life and well-being. His belief in his inability to protect her due to how afraid he is. How he’s failed at protecting her innocence, something that is inevitably out of his control because of the world they live in. How he probably blames himself for Ellie watching Henry off himself. Something, again, he could not control because Henry threatened his life. And nearly Ellie’s. And he tells Tommy he has to leave her because he believes he’s incapable and unworthy of protecting her. Maybe it is his age and hearing. More than that, I think it’s a mix of this anxiety and his golden love for her that makes him think it’s the right thing to do

People like this, like me, need a lot of convincing. Convincing and reaffirming that not everything is on us. That we can be taken care of. That we can take breaks and don’t have to hold the weight of the world on our shoulders, and I think that’s exactly what Winter does for Joel and Ellie. For Joel to, in my opinion, view himself in this light and to shove her away and for her to come running back, holding his hand and telling him, wordlessly, that she is there to take care of him. She’s there to convince him, “it’s you and me. Rest, let me take care of you.” To reaffirm and comfort him through it. Sure, he’s forced to rest bc he’s basically comatose, but it applies to at least the beginning. That his probably last real moment of consciousness before he wakes in episode 8 was her coming back to take care of him. To show him that it’s not just him

[kakusu-shipping]

YOOOO NEW EMILES JUST DROPPED!! Okay okay, so what are the individual ships for your new Pokemon s/is??? And also what are their origins? Is it like a same backstory, different timelines kinda deal or completely different backstories??

Thankyou Devin for being excited for the New Mes I create like monthly kjgksjgk Always a joy.

All 3 of these S/Is are completly separate persons that I had to do some MAJOR fanagling of story to keep from Interacting because I agree with you, writing yourself interacting with yourself is. Weird. And hard. fdkgjfdkj

The main Story S/I doesn't have a major romantic ship, he's more about the Platonics with Arven, Penny, Nemona, and Team Star. Though I do have a crush on my Armarouge Charlos, so I imagine post story they eventually get together.

My Teacher's Pet S/I was originally a NSFW X Reader I'd drafted up for a School Staff polycule concept I had that... Just kind of developed into more of an S/I as I made myself fall in love with the teachers... I could never write NSFW fic anyway so it's better this way in my opinion.

The DLC S/I is self shipped with Kieran and eventually Drayton and I talk about his backstory Here (No DLC spoilers)

I actually made my Main Story Self Insert LAST year around this same time, that post can be found Here, and nothing major has really changed about him I don't think, but I like his story so I'll tell it again in further detail under the cut!

Emile is the grandson of Director Clavell, and as a child spent all his time either in the lighthouse lab watching his grandfather and Sada work, or scrounging around outside with his brother (not biologically) Arven for any item they could sell for change.

Emile's first Pokemon was a wandering Gimmighoul he had befriended on top of the lighthouse. He was determined to give his Pokemon a chest full of treasure he could be proud of, and put a lot of work into collecting all sorts of coins for his Gimmighoul. He even hand made him a chest to put it all in!

Eventually, Sada and Clavell's research took them into the Great Crater, which meant Emile and Arven weren't allowed to visit them as often. To keep the two out of trouble (following them into the crater unsupervised), the two were enrolled in Naranja Academy, and everything was fine.. for a while.

Emile was Arven's rock when the older realized his mom cared more about her research than him, when he noticed Clavell came out of the crater to visit Emile much more often than his mom did for him, when they went into the crater and it was only Clavell there to greet them, to escort them lower, to take a break from work to make sure the strong Pokemon in the crater didn't hurt them.

This made Emile a lot more protective over Arven. So when he got called into the Director's Office and scolded for how long his hair was by the new Student Council President, Emile didn't hesitate to retaliate.

At first, he was just petty. He grew his hair longer, dyed it bright pinks and oranges and blues, switching it up every day. He'd step on the back of Giacomo's shoes at he walked to class, or shoulder check him just hard enough to make him drop his books. He didn't hurt him physically, just defied him and pushed him around a bit.

Then other students got involved. Suddenly there was a whole group of guys around Emile with long deep purple hair and their uniform shirts unbuttoned. When he shoved Giacomo, someone else was there to shove him the other way, passing him around like a game of catch.

Anyone who stood up for Giacomo became a target, tripped in the halls, missing gym clothes, spilled lunches, and eventually.. stolen money.

That pompous president deserved it anyway, Emile had convinced himself as he filled his Gimmighoul chest with more coins than he ever could have gotten on his own. He'd convinced himself he was in the right, that that guy's rules were unfair. He didn't even notice when Arven stopped coming to school, or the looks his Gimmighoul gave him sat upon a throne of thievery

On the day of operation star, Emile's Gimmighoul left him, taking the first coin Emile had even given him, and vanishing overnight. Emile had no Pokemon to battle back against Team Star with. He was one of the first to retreat.

For a full year Emile didn't go back to school. He didn't talk to Arven. He didn't visit his grandfather. He just laid in his room with an empty Gimmighoul chest...

Until Clavell became the new Director.

He urged Emile to come back to school, even going so far as to get him a new Pokemon Partner, a noble loyal knight who wouldn't leave him. Charlos, the Charcadet.

Against his better judgement Emile returned to school with the plan to go as under the radar as possible, and stay out of the way of all the kids he's wronged.. Until Charlos dragged him into Operation Starfall.

And that's about it outside of canon events, which unfold about the same just with a little more resistance by the protagonist. It was hard to work with an S/I who wouldn't wanna play along with the story as is, so I gave him 3 Pokemon that'd drag him along the plot.

Charlos for Starfall Street, Koriadon for Path of Legends, and a Rotom Phone that REALLY loves to fight for Victory Road. He should probably have more teammates but I like these three.

[obsessivelollipoplalala]

Just remembered that I wrote my Capstone project for senior year of undergrad on some of the linguistic practices in the tumblr and AO3 Good Omens fandom lmao. I used screenshots of tumblr posts, tags, and comments from my own fics as evidence. I got an A. My offline professor was fascinated.

[lunarrosette]

I joked abt this like ages ago but I did write 2 of my poems for my lit class last year abt dndads so here they are just for shits and giggles

“Love” poem in abt oakworthy from hermie’s perspective I don’t remember what episode was released near but it was a good while ago

Sonnet is abt me kinning grant /hj nah it’s mostly just abt grant and shit but CW: it like implies SH but never like outright says it

[qweenofurheart]

im pretty happy with my most recent post but i really do want to get better at writing and comics. imo i could have done better with the pacing and specificity of the character’s feelings and relied less on cliches? and added more subtext and subtlety? basically what im trying to say is prepare for more attempts in the future lol

[wanderingmind867]

In period 2, we did a group assignment today. I felt very embarrassed during it, because not once did I say a word, let alone contribute anything useful to the group.

You see, this is why i probably have no friends. Whenever I leave my house or whenever I'm not around my dad, I really clam up. I say very short sentences. I don't talk about myself or my interests. I probably come off as very standoffish.

[the-sparkling-diamond-satine]

#21 (Would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?) for the fic writer ask game

Get to know your fic writer! Asks

Never say never! My beta Echo and I have some co-written fics just for the hell of it in our shared Google docs :) mostly we just each pick a character and write a dialogue scene together for practice haha! I don't think we'd ever post any of those though

Otherwise, if someone asked me to co-write I'd at least consider it? I think it would depend on a lot of things like how busy I am atm and whether or not our ideas and writing styles would mesh AT ALL

[wc-confessions]

i made a firegray fanfic for a school english test when i was in 6th grade

‎

[rad-rat-with-a-tophat]

@thetheatergremlin's boyf riends week day 3

✨dragon✨

Jeremy had been having a crappy day for no apparent reason and it was horrible.

It was a Saturday! He had all the time in the world to do whatever he wanted! But no, he was just sitting in his bed reading shitty fan fiction and feeling unbelievably stuck.

He was utterly numb, since he woke up he'd gone downstairs about once to eat breakfast and that was it. Now he was just sitting, music on full blast through his earbuds but still feeling absolutely nothing.

He checked the time, 1 pm. Three hours since he woke up and two since he'd eaten breakfast. Wasn't he supposed to meet up with Michael today?

Whatever, Jeremy thought, It's not like anyone notices when this happens.

The more rational part of his brain tells him, People do care! Michael does, Christine does, all of your friends do! But Jeremy wasn't in the mood to be rational. Instead, he shut his laptop and laid onto his bed, unable to sit up again.

After what felt like five minutes he checked the time on his phone 2:30, huh, longer than I thought. He noted, ignoring the multiple missed text and just laying there, music still on full blast.

A knock came from downstairs. Was his dad going to answer it? Wait, no. His dad was switching groups in his job and had to attend an orientation.

The door opened. At least Jeremy didn't have to get the door.

Wait! What if it's a robber! Jeremy panicked, What if I get murdered?!

"Jeremy!" Michael's familiar voice called.

So not a robber then. Just Michael.

Jeremy heard footsteps and soon enough Michael was standing at his doorway. Jeremy just stared at him, too stuck to say anything.

Michael's eyes scanned over Jeremy, assessing him for something. "It's one of those days?" He asked, worry clouding his eyes.

Jeremy nodded, not moving from his spot on his bed. Michael nodded.

"Be right back!" He said, rushing downstairs.

Oh well, guess I'll stay here, waiting.

Jeremy didn't know what he was waiting for. Was it Michael? The ability to feel? He didn't know.

In hours or seconds, Micheal reappeared at his doorway, holding something in his hand.

"Look what I got you!"

Jeremy looked at what was in Michael's outstretched hand. It was a little plush dragon. It was light blue and sparkly. Jeremy took it slowly. It was soft, and kinda heckin' adorable. He slowly nodded, still looking at the plush and not Michael.

Michael went to sit on the edge of Jeremy's bed, making sure not to crowd him. "Are you gonna name it something?"

Jeremy thought for a bit, "Francis," He croaked out, voice rough with disuse. He smiled, not because he was happy per say, but because he felt he could actually be happy, that he was a little unstuck.

Michael nodded in relief, "Francis the Dragon, a mighty name for a mighty stuffed animal,"

Jeremy nodded and turned his head to Michael, "Do you have a matching red one?"

Michael shook his head, "You up for coming with me to get one?" He asked.

Jeremy thought for a bit, "I can get in the car, not a store,"

"Okay then, you'll stay in the car with my phone for music while I get myself a dragon,"

Jeremy nodded, standing up to go downstairs, cradling Francis in his arms.